


Love You To Death

by Lunar_Pull



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, gdyb - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunar_Pull/pseuds/Lunar_Pull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing Jiyong knows for sure is that Dong Youngbae is going to be the death of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love You To Death

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Taeyang's new album, Rise.

_Rise_

 

Jiyong’s always been a late sleeper but there are rare mornings when he actually wakes up before Youngbae. These surreal mornings are always his favorite because he gets to watch the beautiful man sleep without fear of being caught. He can admire his full lips, the way his eyes move underneath closed lids, the bare shoulder that peaks out of the mess of soft blankets they are wrapped in. If Jiyong is feeling particularly bold—which is usually the case—he will trace words into Youngbae’s bare skin, dragging his fingertips across the golden landscape he’s become obsessed with until the sleeping man wakes up.

Youngbae always smiles at him, bright and sincere, and Jiyong will kiss him hurriedly because it’s a race against time. Jiyong only has a few sunlit hours before Youngbae is gone again. The shorter man will kiss him, rut up against him wantonly until they’re both so hard and needy that they’re dizzy with desire and Jiyong will part his legs and let Youngbae inside him until it feels so good it hurts.

He pretends it doesn’t. He pretends that it’s fine.

It kills him, though.

But Jiyong will pretend that everything’s fine because this is how Youngbae needs him. He doesn’t need him to help him pick out clothes, like Seungri, or help him with his English pronunciation, like Daesung. Youngbae has always been special.

Youngbae needs Jiyong to let him fuck him into oblivion because he’s still so damn heartbroken over his first love.

And Jiyong is his best friend—his closest friend. He will always let him into his bed when he’s filled with sorrow.

He will always pretend that he’s only giving Youngbae sex when the truth is, it means so much more to Jiyong. It always has.

Most mornings, Youngbae is gone before Jiyong even wakes up. The rapper spends the rest of the day shut up in his room with the curtains drawn, ignoring emails and phone calls, scribbling out lyrics that will never see the light of day.

But on mornings like these, Jiyong can tease Youngbae into fucking him again and then they have a few hours of lounging lazily in bed, limbs draped over each other as they laugh at old memories or talk about music. Sometimes they lie in silence and Jiyong wishes it could be like this all the time.

Youngbae will always clear his throat and tug last night's rumpled clothes back on. Jiyong will watch him and pretend it doesn't bother him. Who ever said Seunghyun was the only actor in this band?

 

_Eyes, Nose, Lips_

 

They have the same eyes.

Kiko's are a bit wider, but it's not their shape that is similar, it's the attitude. Her eyes show the same calm defiance that Youngbae possesses and Jiyong knows before he even talks to her that she'll be the same kind of trouble for him. Of course, he goes to her.

The nose is all wrong, though. She's even more gorgeous up close, especially from this angle. Jiyong's got his arm up against the wall she's leaning her back on as she drinks her champagne more elegantly than any human has the right to. But her nose is wider and flatter than Youngbae's and though it fits her face perfectly, it only reminds Jiyong that the other man is somewhere in this party, too. Probably looking for him.

Her lips, though—her lips are a fucking replica and it's damn near perfect when Jiyong kisses her in the hotel hallway and she actually kisses him back. He gets so lost in the exquisite feel of their softness against his own lips and then his neck. She moves fast and Jiyong should have known because Youngbae didn't wait very long after breaking up with Little Miss Perfect to start sneaking into his bed, either.

Jiyong's eyes fall shut when he feels her lips smile against his neck and he can almost pretend that it's Youngbae's dark hair tickling his chin.

“Open your eyes,” she whispers as she stops her trajectory.

When he does, she's holding a folded up piece of paper between her middle and index finger and she's wearing a teasing smile.

“Call me when it's me you're thinking about,” she says, no accusation or malice in her tone. Just honesty.

Damn.

Jiyong watches her saunter back to the party, entranced by the sway of her hips, and wishes he was brave enough to say the exact same thing to Youngbae. She's gonna be trouble indeed.

 

_1AM_

 

Jiyong has been trying to escape the party for about an hour now because he's got words swimming around in his head and he needs to get them down before they disappear forever from his mind. He's wandering through the crowd at Teddy-hyung's place, ignoring every person that tries to talk to him (and they all try to talk to him) looking for a damn piece of paper. He feels like he's suffocating until he makes it out onto the balcony, surprised and relieved to find it empty.

Except for one person.

Youngbae stands against the railing, his body framed by the blinking city lights. Jiyong walks closer to him, making his steps obvious because he knows how much Youngbae hates surprises. When Youngbae turns, he give a small, thin smile and Jiyong knows.

He knows it's going to be about her. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, after all.

Jiyong doesn't recall her being particularly pretty. She was rather average-looking, actually, especially considering all the beauty that surrounds them now that they are part of the entertainment industry. But she was real.

Youngbae dated her for much longer than Jiyong knew. He only met her a few times and most of what he knows about her is from the pained confessions Youngbae lets out before he's pushing Jiyong's shoulders down and climbing over him.

He knows she was wild. Reckless, in fact. He recalls running from the police one of the times the three of them hung out together. He knows she was creative. He remembers Youngbae telling him about how one day he woke up in his home bedroom to discover she had painted a huge sunrise on one of his walls while he slept. His parents were so furious about the fact that their walls were ruined that they didn't wonder how she'd gotten inside.

She had loved him.

Jiyong remembers this most of all because that's all that matters to Youngbae. The fact that she had offered to wait for him, to be his secret girlfriend for as long as was necessary and he had looked into her eyes and chosen stardom instead. Jiyong knows Youngbae has never forgiven himself for that. 

“She's getting married,” Youngbae says quietly when Jiyong reaches the railing.

“Oh yeah?” Jiyong feigns disinterest. He wonders who could love such an impulsive little thing like her. Like himself.

“Yeah,” Youngbae says, rubbing his hands together impatiently.

Jiyong knows what he wants. “Do you want get out of here?”

Youngbae, at least, has the decency to consider the proposal. They both know it's going to end in rushed groping and mouths gasping into each other but only Jiyong knows that it's going to end with his heart mangled.

Youngbae takes the offer. He always does.

 

_Stay With Me_

 

When it doesn't start with Youngbae's broken heart, it starts with dancing. Usually at a club, although it's been known to happen in empty practice rooms as well.

Jiyong gets drunk to numb his pain but it's useless because the cause is right there, holding out his hand, asking him if he wants to dance. They disappear into the throng of sweaty clubbers and it's easy to pretend that they are pressed up against each other because there's no space. They've always been good at this part. Their bodies move together so perfectly, Youngbae's hands fit against Jiyong's hips and the taller man is just the right height to wrap his thin arms around his best friend's neck. They lose themselves in the rhythm until Youngbae is pulling at the hem of Jiyong's shirt, subtly signaling that he wants more.

When they tumble into bed, it's divine.

When the alcohol wears off and Youngbae starts to get dressed again, Jiyong panics, like always.

“You could stay with me, you know,” Jiyong tries for nonchalance, “if you wanted to, that is.”

A strange look crosses Youngbae's features as he stares at Jiyong.

On most nights, Youngbae would shake his head and blush. Tonight, for some reason, he nods and climbs back into the bed.

The next day, Jiyong hasn't slept at all, but he's feeling better than he has in ages because he's written a new song.

He thinks he will give it to Youngbae.

 

_Body_

 

“Your body's so beautiful,” Youngbae groans as he thrusts slowly into Jiyong. He's got the taller man up against the wall of his apartment, biting at his shoulder and then running his tongue over the skin to soothe the sting. Jiyong's arm is draped over the one Youngbae has wrapped around his waist and he's pushing back against him, making the singer let out these soft, melodic little sounds that Jiyong wishes he could record.

Jiyong doesn't know how Dong fucking Youngbae can even dare to say something like that. He laughs at Youngbae's praise because it's so absurd. Youngbae is—perhaps literally—the most beautiful man Jiyong has ever seen. He's not debonair, like Seunghyun, and he doesn't have the adorable charm of Seungri. But his face is made up of perfect symmetry and light and he's got this mysterious air about him—like what you see is only the tip of the iceberg and no one knows the truth of that better than Jiyong.

“It is,” Youngbae insists and he laughs as he fucks into Jiyong, like it's a goddamn game.

Sometimes, it is.

Jiyong's breathing hard as he tries to keep himself upright and he's about to tell Youngbae that he can't stand like this anymore but Youngbae already knows. He's already pulling out and moving them to the floor.

Sometimes, they don't make it to the bedroom.

Youngbae doesn't waste anytime sliding back into Jiyong after he throws his legs over his shoulders. Youngbae fucks him and Jiyong wants to count his lucky stars because he's smiling. He's smiling that heartwarming smile of his that makes his eyes close into sweet little crescents and it makes Jiyong think that this is all worth it. Getting to see him like this is worth anything.

After they've both come, Youngbae takes a little longer than usual to leave. Jiyong lets himself admire the way Youngbae's muscles tense and flex as he wanders around the room, picking up the clothes they've left scattered on the floor. If anyone has a beautiful body, it's Youngbae.

It's more than that, it's a masterpiece. It's years of Youngbae's hard training, commitment and self-control and  _that's_  what Jiyong admires most of all.

 

_Ringa Linga_

 

They go around in circles most of the time. Their schedules keep them apart for months at a time and Jiyong starts to feel righteous anger at the situation. He wants so much more from Youngbae but all the man wants from him is a quick fuck to make him forget and Jiyong is fucking tired of it.

He's going to tell him so when he shows up to film his cameo in the new MV but the words die in his throat because Youngbae is half naked, covered in tribal tattoos and sporting a white fucking mohawk when Jiyong walks into the dressing room.

Fuck.

Youngbae—no, Taeyang—smiles wickedly when he notices Jiyong's mouth is hanging open in shock. “You like?” he asks teasingly, voice rasping in a way that is entirely unacceptable.

Jiyong has no other choice. He falls to his knees and undoes Youngbae's pants, takes his hard cock into his mouth and blows him like there's no tomorrow.

 

_This Ain't It_

 

Jiyong doesn't pretend he knows what true love is, but he certainly knows what it isn't.

It's not Kiko.

God, he tries. He tries so hard. She tries hard, too, maybe even more. She meets his family and hides their relationship from the public without question. She visits him incognito and risks her reputation.

She is intelligent and funny; Jiyong can have a real conversation with her. Butterflies kick up in Jiyong's stomach whenever her dark hair falls into her eyes and she tucks it behind her ear. He feels like he's so close. She's almost perfect for him.

Except that she isn't. Jiyong can't find a real reason except that she can't fuck him like Youngbae can.

She doesn't cry when Jiyong ends it. She's always been a tough one.

 

_Let Go_

 

Sometimes, Jiyong thinks he's over it. He hates the way Youngbae gushes about him in interviews, going so far as saying he wants to marry someone like him. It's fucking bullshit because Jiyong would run away with him if he just asked but the singer keeps talking about Little Miss Perfect and how she was his only chance at true love.

It's so easy to blame Youngbae. It's much easier than admitting that he's scared, too. He knows he hides his true emotions from his friend but there's a very good reason for that. If Youngbae knew he was hurting him, he would stop.

Jiyong doesn't want the hurt to stop. Happy and well-adjusted people are overrated anyway.

When Jiyong hears Youngbae sing the song Tablo-hyung wrote for him, the first thing he feels is jealousy. He hates that someone else was able to tap into Youngbae's psyche, write notes that highlight his strengths, his unique tone of voice, and make him sound like _that_. Jiyong's the only one who should be able to do that.

Youngbae comes out of the recording booth and looks at Jiyong expectantly. “Well?”

“You sounded great, Youngbae-ah,” Jiyong says, “You always do.”

Youngbae grins in response.

Tablo-hyung brings Haru into the room and Youngbae lights up even more, if that's possible. He looks at the small child with stars in his eyes and hugs her tightly. He somehow manages to have a nonsensical and adorable conversation with the child despite that fact that she doesn't even bother with most people. Youngbae's just so good with kids.

Jiyong watches them from the couch, hidden behind sunglasses and a large beanie, and he aches. It's so obvious that Youngbae wants to be a father more than anything in the world.

Jiyong will never be able to give him that. Little Miss Perfect could.

Maybe he  _should_  just let Youngbae go.

 

_Love You To Death_

 

He can't.

Jiyong can't let Youngbae go.

Youngbae shows up at his doorstep more frequently now, fraught with stress and worry over his new album. He begs Jiyong to fuck him one night and Jiyong knows it's over.

He's lost the battle. Damn it, he's lost the war.

There's no way in fuck that Jiyong's gonna give up the way Youngbae's eyes widen and his mouth hangs open when Jiyong finally enters him. There's no way he's gonna give up the little whimpers he lets out or the way his fingers feel threaded in Jiyong's hair.

He'd rather die.

Youngbae keeps alternating between calling out to his god and cursing up a storm and Jiyong's never going to give up the way he's the only one who knows this about Youngbae. That he's a sinner and saint, all wrapped up in one angelic little package.

This is what Heaven must feel like. Hell, too. It doesn't matter to Jiyong, as long as it's Youngbae.

As long as Youngbae keeps pulling him close and arching his back, hips bucking up in a way that makes the heat tighten around him, Jiyong doesn't care.

As long as he keeps spending the night and winking at him from across the room when no one's looking, Jiyong will be all his.

They are twenty-six years old now and they can't do this forever. One day, Jiyong supposes Youngbae will settle down and marry a nice girl. Jiyong will probably have some sort of mental breakdown or do something melodramatic and over-the-top, as he is wont to do.

Maybe not.

Maybe Jiyong will someday have the courage to tell Youngbae what he really wants, what he really needs. Maybe Youngbae will reach over and ruffle his hair, smiling slightly before whispering, “I'm already yours. I always have been.”

There are endless possibilities.

But the one thing Jiyong knows for sure is that Dong Youngbae is going to be the death of him.

 


	2. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Youngbae's perspective.

_A Boy_

Youngbae’s not sure where it all went so wrong.

He remembers looking at the small, trembling boy from the top of his comic book as he introduced himself through nervous stuttering as Kwon Jiyong. Youngbae had put the comic book down and sat up, looked at this Jiyong person up and down for a long time, appraising him carefully before deciding that yes, this boy would be his friend.

And, yes, they should go get something to eat.

“Are you hungry?” Youngbae had asked, making sure to make his tone slightly threatening because there was something appealing about making this boy squirm.

“Yes,” Jiyong had said, and then he’d smiled a gummy smile that did funny things to Youngbae’s insides.

Youngbae never thought that the boy would shoot past him in height and in popularity and leave him in the dust. He certainly didn’t imagine that several years later, he’d show up at that same boy’s apartment and beg shamelessly for his cock.

Youngbae sighs and turns over in the bed. Tries to keep his face placid when a shiver goes up his spine and he feels a jolt of soreness.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. But then, again, there’s a million things in their lives that weren’t supposed to happen. Daesung wasn’t supposed to get into a car accident that nearly destroyed everything, including himself. Seungri wasn’t supposed to let his dangerous fetishes get the best of him and cause a scandal.

Youngbae supposes he got off easy, in the long run. The worst thing that happened to him is that he started fucking his best friend.

Jiyong isn’t sleeping. He never sleeps. Youngbae doesn’t really sleep much either, but he at least closes his eyes.

“Are you okay? How do you feel? Does it hurt?” Jiyong asks, voice hoarse, as he runs his slender fingers through Youngbae’s bleached hair.

Tonight is the first time that Youngbae has let Jiyong inside him and it seems to mean the world to the rapper. Youngbae’s not sure what it means to him yet. He stares into Jiyong's bright eyes and wishes his heart would stop pounding long enough for him to think.

“No, not at all,” Youngbae lies although he knows it’s useless.

Jiyong can always tell.

“You’ve never—I mean...was that...”

“Yes, Jiyongie, that was the first time I had a dude’s dick in my ass,” Youngbae inwardly congratulates himself for being able to make Jiyong’s eyes widen in shock.

Jiyong’s hardly ever shocked.

“Damn,” he says, pulling the shorter man closer. “When did you turn into such a bad boy?”

Youngbae barks out a laugh that rings out in the silence of the apartment. “I’ve always been bad.”

Jiyong gets that look in his eyes--the one that Youngbae’s come to know as the  _he’s sad about something but he doesn’t want to talk about it_ look.

“I know,” he whispers but Youngbae doesn’t understand why he’s not laughing, too.

Jiyong’s been acting strange recently.  _It must be because of Kiko_ , Youngbae decides, trying to ignore the jealousy that pools in his stomach at the thought of the ethereal model.

At least it’s over now. At least he’s got Jiyong all to himself for a few more months probably. At least now, he can kiss that spot on Jiyong’s neck he knows he loves and make him forget all about Kiko.

Youngbae snorts and Jiyong asks him what is so funny.

 _We’re fucking each other because we’re sad over women,_  Youngbae thinks. He doesn’t say it.

He just keeps kissing Jiyong. It’s the only thing about this situation that makes any sense.

  
 

_Heartbreaker_

It began, like most tragedies, with a broken heart.

Youngbae was twenty years old and pretty dumb. He broke up with his year-long girlfriend, a sweet but reckless girl that made him feel like anything was possible, because he selfishly wanted to be famous. He crawled back to her six months later, but by then, she’d gone off to college and gained enough confidence to tell him no.

Jiyong never said no. Not to Youngbae anyway.

He didn’t say no when Youngbae crawled into his bed and cried his heart out, night after night, for about a month. He didn’t say no when Youngbae started to kiss him experimentally, desperate for any distraction that would get the image of her smiling face out of his head.

He didn’t say no when Youngbae’s shaking hands accidentally brushed the hardness in his sweatpants.

“Yes,” Jiyong had whispered breathily in Youngbae’s ear and what began as a little kissing between friends turned into years and years of confusion and release.

A cycle.

1.Youngbae forgets about her for a good few months. He is happy and brilliant and the world smiles with him.

2\. Something reminds him of her. Seeing a girl with a ponytail. A song they used to listen to together. His own reflection.

3\. Youngbae runs to Jiyong.

4\. Jiyong lets Youngbae fuck him senseless.

5\. Youngbae leaves his apartment/hotel room/backstage dressing room/etc. with an extra spring in his step and his heart filled with Jiyong.

6\. Rinse. Repeat.

The cycle works wonderfully for Youngbae so he doesn’t dwell much on that fact that it’s destructive and it doesn’t actually change anything. Or that what they do in the dark is considered a sin by a whole lot of people.

Youngbae doesn’t care about that last part. Jiyong’s taught him better than that.

But as he leaves Jiyong’s apartment this time, he can’t help but notice Jiyong’s stooped shoulders and the fact that he’s not meeting his gaze. Jiyong usually looks so sad when Youngbae leaves and the singer always chalks it up to the same loneliness that brings them together in the first place but it’s something different this time. It’s the way he’s avoiding meeting his eyes as he walks him to the front door.

“Do you really have to go?” Jiyong’s voice is small and childlike and Youngbae’s not sure why it makes him hate himself.

“Yeah,” Youngbae responds. “Teddy will kill me if I miss a recording session.”

Normally, he’d leave it at that. But Jiyong just looks so lost.

“But I can come back tonight,” Youngbae promises as he pulls Jiyong towards him by his narrow hips.

A smile splits Jiyong’s face and Youngbae feels like a hero. He kisses Jiyong one last time before leaving and doesn’t wonder why Jiyong always makes everything feel better.

It’s just one of those unchangeable facts. The sky is blue, the world is round and Jiyong always helps.

  
 

_Crayon_

The thing about Jiyong—the thing that Youngbae loves most of all—is that he’s insane.

Fucking nuts, actually.

Usually, Youngbae eats it up.

“Let’s try handcuffs,” is the statement Youngbae is greeted with when he returns to Jiyong’s apartment. He has apparently been doing a lot of thinking while Youngbae’s been away.

Youngbae just chuckles and shakes his head. Goes straight for the bedroom.

He should probably think this over before going along with it but Jiyong’s never led him down a wrong path in the fifteen years they’ve been friends. Besides, Youngbae’s kind of crazy, too.

Most of the time, Jiyong’s craziness is a turn-on for Youngbae.

Like when he knew that Youngbae was feeling upset at the fact that he never gets to be the male leads in their parody videos so he showed up in his room wearing the same golden dress, fishnet stockings and shiny wig from their latest parody.

“Oppa,” he had said in a silly girly voice, “ I want you so bad.”

Youngbae had wanted to make a joke but Jiyong had chosen that very moment to bend over and crawl seductively onto his bed and all rational thought had flown out of the singer’s head.

Or like the time Jiyong wanted Youngbae to teach him how to drive a car. Except that the driving lesson pretty quickly turned into Youngbae speeding down the highway, trying to avoid other cars and not lose his mind or their lives because Jiyong’s head was in his lap and  _my god_ , when had he learned to give a blow job like that?

Sometimes, Jiyong’s unique way of thinking can be a...problem.

Like the time he decided to deflower Seungri.

“I think he’s a virgin,” Jiyong had whispered as the two boys sat on the couch and watched the maknae stumble around in the kitchen, awkwardly cursing at various kitchen appliances as he tried to make his own breakfast.

“Definitely,” Youngbae agreed.

“We should make a bet. Whoever fucks him first wins.”

Youngbae had just laughed and made the mistake of not taking Jiyong seriously. His eyes had bulged out of his head when weeks later he had found Jiyong and Seungri alone in the dorm and cuddling on the couch. Seungri had pushed Jiyong off him, looking all sorts of guilty.

Youngbae had dragged Jiyong away, shoving him into his room. “Don’t you even think about it,” he had growled as he pushed Jiyong down on his bed.

“Oh come on, Youngbae-ah,” Jiyong had giggled as Youngbae crawled on top of him.

“You can’t do that to me,” Youngbae had said, his voice low and smooth at Jiyong’s ear despite the anger he felt.

When he pulled back to look at the rapper’s face, Jiyong’s eyes had gone all soft at the singer’s words and he had kissed him chastely. “Okay,” Jiyong had said.

Youngbae didn’t know why, but it had felt like a promise.

“You’re crazy,” Youngbae moans when he hears the click of the handcuffs and he knows he’s stuck to the headboard. Jiyong’s been licking his nipples to distract him but Youngbae knew it was coming.

Jiyong looks down at him and smirks. “You’re crazy, too.”

And well, Youngbae can’t really argue with that.

  
 

_Crooked_

It’s the night of 2NE1’s album release party and if Youngbae had known what he was signing up for, he would have stayed home. To begin with, he’s had another tense meeting with Mr. Yang about his album and he’s feeling stressed beyond belief.

Also, Jiyong is drunk.

That’s an understatement. Jiyong is  _plastered_. He’s stumbling around the party, spilling his drinks and hanging off of everyone. Chaerin keeps giving Youngbae meaningful looks that he knows means she wants him to get Jiyong out of here but she doesn’t understand how difficult that will be. Eventually, Youngbae sighs and sets down his half-drunk mixed drink. Walks towards his friend.

“Youngbae-ah!” Jiyong screeches, making him wince.

“Let’s go home, Ji,” he responds, peeling the rapper off one of the YG male models Youngbae can never remember the name of.

Jiyong just laughs in his face and grabs at his crotch. “You’re never this forward,” he slurs.

Youngbae’s cheeks burn with embarrassment but an hour later, he has Jiyong back at his place.

The way Jiyong is throwing himself at Youngbae is not sexy at all. He’s wrapped around the singer so tightly that Youngbae fumbles with the keys for a good five minutes before they can finally tumble inside.

Jiyong’s on him again in a heartbeat. He’s tugging at his shirt and pulling him towards the bed but this isn’t how Youngbae likes it.

“Jiyongie,” he calls him, hoping the affectionate nickname will calm him down. “You’re drunk. Stop it.”

“I don’t care. Take off your shirt,” Jiyong demands, his hands struggling to undo Youngbae’s belt.

“You’re too drunk—”

“I’m not fucking asking you, asshole. I’m  _telling_  to fuck me,” Jiyong spits out.

Youngbae frowns but doesn’t respond as he keeps trying to push Jiyong away.

“Stop being such a fucking shit, Youngbae, I swear to god.”

“I’m not going to fuck you like this. You’re too drunk and you’re being too rough.”

“Fuck me,” Jiyong says as he pulls at Youngbae’s shirt and bites his collarbone. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”

“Stop,” Youngbae’s sudden harsh shout makes Jiyong halt. Youngbae tries to catch his breath, thinking this is all over.

“If you don’t fuck me now, I swear I will never let you touch me again.”

Their panting breaths are the only sound in the darkness. Youngbae knows Jiyong doesn’t make empty threats. He’s furious, though. He doesn’t understand why Jiyong is insisting on ruining what they have. This is the moment he should tell him that. But he’s flooded with memories of another ultimatum ( _Big Bang or the girl_ , the manager had told him) and now he’s seeing red. He’s so fucking sick of people making demands of him.

Something inside Youngbae breaks.

He shoves Jiyong into the bedroom door and though he stumbles, Jiyong shows no signs of backing down. There’s no foreplay. Youngbae prepares Jiyong quickly, doesn’t even bother to take off his pants or shirt even though somewhere along the way Jiyong lost all of his clothes.

He grabs Jiyong’s thin arm and turns him around. Makes him kneel on the bed so he can stand and fuck him from behind. Pushes his head down into the mattress.

He knows it has to burn, because Jiyong is so tight around him, gripping him like a vice, but he keeps egging Youngbae on.

“Faster, you son of a bitch. Harder, harder, harder,” Jiyong’s voice is gritty and muffled by the sheets.

Jiyong wants harder so Youngbae gives him that. Fucks him rough and fast, hips snapping uncomfortably and too quickly. His hands pull Jiyong’s narrow waist towards him, in tune with his thrusts and for a moment, he gets lost in how much he hates this night and this version of Jiyong.

When he notices Jiyong’s been silent for a few minutes, he looks down at him. That’s when he sees the tears.

“Shit,” he curses, as he pulls out of Jiyong as gingerly as possible.

He gathers the naked man into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against Jiyong’s temple. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Why are you stopping?” Jiyong asks, too weak to fight against Youngbae’s arms.

Jiyong is thin and frail, bundled in his arms and shuddering with exertion but he’s still trying to keep going. Something is so very wrong with this picture and Youngbae has never felt more guilty in his life. He knows it’s all his fault but he can’t figure out how all the pieces fit together. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jiyongie. Please forgive me.”

Youngbae whispers shaky apologies into Jiyong’s hair over and over again, like a prayer, until Jiyong finally nods and burrows his head closer to Youngbae’s chest. Closer to his heartbeat.

Jiyong doesn’t protest anymore that night. He lets Youngbae clean him up with a warm towel and when he retches into the toilet bowl, Youngbae soothes him. When they finally get back into the bed, Jiyong melts into his embrace and falls asleep.

Sometimes, it’s Youngbae that takes care of Jiyong.

  
  
 

_Missing You_

They haven’t seen each other since that night, so Youngbae is feeling particularly nervous about the tour.

It’s awkward for the first hour, until Jiyong corners him during soundcheck and hugs him from behind. “Thank you for being you,” he whispers before he’s gone again.

Youngbae’s grinning from ear to ear for the rest of the day. He loves the way Jiyong ducks his head like a shy schoolboy every time he winks at him from across the stage.

He can hardly wait until they’re alone. He loves the other members, too, don’t get him wrong. But Jiyong is different. He’s something more, always has been.

When Youngbae was promoting his first solo album, the other members supported him through interviews and messages and it meant a lot to him. But Jiyong was  _there._ He came to almost every performance and recording, greeted him backstage with a huge smile and open arms.

Youngbae used to dream that one day,  _she’d_  be backstage waiting for him to finish performing so that they could go home together. They would have had matching rings.

The reality is that it was Jiyong backstage, smiling and hopping up and down with excitement.

“I’m so proud of you,” he always whispered as he hugged him so tightly Youngbae though he’d break him and it was during this time that the two men took their unspoken arrangement up a notch.

The first time they had sex—real sex, not dry humping on the couch quickly before Seunghyun-hyung gets home—Youngbae thought he was going to die. He’d never felt anything so good in his life.

It’s always so good with Jiyong. Except the one night it wasn’t. But Jiyong has either forgotten about that or forgiven him for it and it doesn’t really matter which one because when Jiyong pulls Youngbae into his room when they are back at the hotel suite, everything is as it should be.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” Youngbae confesses when he’s finally on top of Jiyong.

“Me, too,” Jiyong smiles. “Your braids are stupid, though, Bae-ah.”

Youngbae smirks and shakes his head a little to make the ends of his braids tickle Jiyong’s face, making the thin man burst into laughter. “You are  _not_  one to talk about hair,” he shoots back, mouth securely latched onto the rapper’s neck.

Jiyong snorts and rolls them over, slots himself between Youngbae’s legs, making all the blood in the singer’s head flood south.

“It doesn’t matter that they look ridiculous, you’re still fucking sexy,” Jiyong moans.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s a compliment,” Jiyong says before kissing Youngbae deeply.

“I missed you,” Youngbae whispers when Jiyong lets him come up for air. It isn’t until the words leave his lips almost involuntarily that he realizes just how true that is. He’s been going crazy with recording and traveling and everything that keeps him away from Jiyong and he hasn’t really had time to think. He’s only realizing now that the past few weeks without Jiyong, he’s felt like he has been holding his breath.

Now, Jiyong is on top of him and he feels like he can breathe again.

“I missed you, too,” Jiyong says, getting that look on his face that Youngbae knows means he wants to fuck slow and languidly with lots of kissing and touching. Lots of just looking through Youngbae and into his heart. Youngbae  _loves_  that look.

But they have no time. They can hear Seungri’s voice coming from the hallway and they know the other members will wonder where they are soon.

Jiyong rolls his hips and makes Youngbae’s breath hitch. It’s like they’re teenagers again, rushing to finish each other off before everyone comes home and it’s half-game, half-desperation.

Youngbae groans and Jiyong whispers at him to keep his voice down.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” Youngbae whispers back and he doesn’t miss the way the term of endearment makes Jiyong smile widely and snap his hips harder.

It isn’t long before they’re both spent and lying bonelessly in the rumpled sheets.

Jiyong chuckles a bit. “I can’t believe we just did that. It’s so embarrassing.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Youngbae says, when his brain can work again. “Reminds me of the old days.”

Jiyong just gives his trademark mischievous grin and they spend the rest of the tour attached at the hip. Seunghyun raises an eyebrow at them one day when they are huddled close on the stadium steps watching Daesung’s rehearsal, but he doesn’t say anything.

He waits until they’re about to go on stage and are brimming with nervous energy before cornering Youngbae.

“Be careful with him,” Seunghyun warns and Youngbae’s not sure if he’s telling him to watch out for Jiyong or to be kind to him. He shrugs his shoulders before going back to join the group.

Youngbae doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, especially when Jiyong looks so damn happy and he knows he’s partly to blame.

Almost two weeks go by before Youngbae realizes he hasn’t really thought about her in over seven months.

  
  
 

_Who You?_

Youngbae is standing in front of her door, wringing his hands nervously as he waits for her to open it. He checks his watch—it’s only been a minute since he knocked but he feels like he’s been standing there forever. There’s probably something poetic about it, but Youngbae just wants the waiting part to be done. He’s been waiting for six years for something to give.

When she finally opens the door, she’s dressed in a business suit and has her hair cut into a bob. It doesn’t suit her.

“Hi,” she says simply, like years haven’t passed.

Youngbae doesn’t say anything. He suddenly feels self-conscious, standing in the suburbs in his oversized leather shirt and backwards snapback hat. He doesn’t belong here.

“Do you want to come inside?” She asks and Youngbae really, really doesn’t.

“Did you listen to it?” he asks instead. He’s sent her the demo of the album and even now, he’s not entirely sure why. It just felt right, that she listen to it first. He’s days away from revealing his pain to the world and he wants to make sure that the one person that matters hears it.

“I did. It’s very good,” she sounds as uncomfortable as he feels and he finds some peace in that.

“I thought you should hear it. It’s about you.”

She gives a tired smile and looks up at him. Sighs. “It’s about someone else, too.”

“What?” Youngbae frowns. He hopes this doesn’t turn into a fight. He remembers now that they used to fight all the time.

“People don’t write albums about heartbreak for no reason. They do it to move on. There’s someone who makes you want to move on.”

Youngbae is suddenly twenty years old again, broken and needy. He can’t find the words to say.

“It makes me sad, though, Youngbae. That you’ve been suffering all those years. Have you  _ever_ been happy?”

Has he?

Youngbae thinks back on the last six years. He thinks of performances, concerts and award shows. He thinks of the love in his fans’ eyes, Daesung’s sweet smile, Seunghyun’s philosophical rants and Seungri’s stupid jokes.

He thinks about Jiyong.

And he finds, much to his surprise, that he has. He can think of a million little moments that make his heart swell with emotion and there’s a single thread that connects them all together.

Jiyong.

It’s so simple.

“I have. I have been happy,” he answers her. He smiles widely and she grins back. She’s beautiful to him again but he doesn’t love her. He loves the girl she used to be and what she represents. Besides, there’s someone else whose snuck their way into his heart.

When he hugs her goodbye, they stay like that for a long time. Until she’s tells him she’s got to go, she’ll be late to work if she stays.

He knows he’ll never see her again.

It feels right.

  
 

_Black_

“Don’t listen to that one.”

Youngbae has kept his word, but for a long time he didn’t know why Jiyong slapped his hand away from the computer.

He’s been trying to figure out a way to approach Jiyong ever since he went see who he thought would always be the love of his life and she’d so helpfully pointed out that he was probably in love with someone else now. It’s kind of fitting but also completely distressing because he just traded one hopeless love for another.

Jiyong doesn’t do commitment. He falls out of love as quickly as he falls into it and the only reason Youngbae’s been able to last this long is because he’s never asked for anything that Jiyong couldn’t give.

So, Youngbae, being Youngbae, decides to tread lightly. He’s doing some research, listening to all of Jiyong’s songs, even the half-finished ones he wants Youngbae’s opinion on, hoping to find a clue. Jiyong always pours his heart out in his songs, but so far, Youngbae hasn’t found anything.

His songs are all Youngbae has because the rapper has been avoiding him. The tour is done and Jiyong has disappeared again. He’s not answering his phone calls or messages. Youngbae would be worried except that the rapper is still updating his social media sites religiously.

Youngbae’s a bit offended that Jiyong hasn’t written anything about him when he’s clearly written about everyone and everything else in his life and he’s about a second away from storming Jiyong’s apartment and demanding to know why he’s not special enough.

And that’s when he remembers.

“It’s shit, don’t listen to it. I mean it.” It was a suspicious remark, since Jiyong usually raves about his music.

Youngbae leans back in his chair and puts on the song Jiyong forbade him from hearing.

 

_If you ask me what happiness is_

_when this life is done, maybe when this love is gone_

_If you ask me what happiness is_

_Your smile under the sun, but I’m always on the run_

 

  
It’s about him.

It’s so obviously about him that Youngbae starts, sits up suddenly and listens to the song about five more times, his heart racing.

It’s about them and Youngbae’s both elated and horrified because all at once, everything makes sense.

Youngbae realizes that every night he has crawled on top of Jiyong and tried to make something good come out of his heart ache, Jiyong’s been breaking underneath his hands. Right under his fingertips, Jiyong has been falling apart and putting himself back together for him.

For Youngbae.

The song is about him. Youngbae is so sure of it because he remembers that unbearably hot summer day back when they were trainees and still free. They spent the whole afternoon at the park and when Jiyong suggested they roll around in the grass, Youngbae had thought he was the weirdest kid in the world. But he went along with it. Youngbae had never laughed that hard in his life.

Later on, when they were sitting at the station, waiting for the train, Youngbae had asked, “What’s happiness to you, Jiyong?”

He asked because he'd been thinking that this day was the happiest of his life thus far.

“No one’s ever asked me that before,” Jiyong had said, pouty lips pursed in concentration. “I don’t know, I’ll think about it. I’ll write you a song when I know.”


	3. Epilogue I

He awakes to the sound of someone pounding loudly on his front door. Through bleary eyes, Youngbae reads the alarm clock. It's 4 a.m. He's probably going to kill whoever is on the other side.

Of course, it's Jiyong, looking frantic and sweaty and too beautiful for someone who has clearly run up several flights of stairs.

“What's wrong?” Youngbae asks, ushering him inside. “What happened?”

“Listen, I'm going to tell you something and I need you to shut up and not say anything because it's important and if I don't say it now, I never will.”

Youngbae crosses his arms and tries to appear nonchalant.

“I know that I'm not a good person,” Jiyong begins, voice cracking. “I know that I've embarrassed you so many times and that—wait, no, that's not right.”

He runs his hands over his face and through his tinted blue hair. “Okay, let me start over,” he takes a deep breath. “We have been friends for a long time, I mean, a _really_  long time, and sometimes, when you know someone for a long time you think that you know everything about them. But you don't. You don't know everything about me.”

Youngbae nods to show he's listening. He's always patient with Jiyong.

“And I don't know everything about you, I'm sure you have secrets, too. No, no, this is all wrong, I have to start over.”

Youngbae remains silent as he watches Jiyong pace around the room. It should make him reconsider the whole wanting to be in a relationship with him thing, but Youngbae's always found Jiyong the Perfectionist particularly endearing.

“You're the sun, right?” Youngbae hides a smirk at Jiyong's melodramatic confession. “So you're the sun and I'm the moon and...and...are you laughing?”

Youngbae can't hold back any longer and he doubles over, bursting into laughter. Jiyong looks horrified at first but Youngbae just can't stop laughing because it's so damn funny.

It's absolutely ridiculous that they've been in love for years and Youngbae hadn't even realized it. Jiyong's wild gesticulating and pacing as he struggles to confess what Youngbae already knows is just the icing on the cake. Comedy gold, in Youngbae's opinion.

Jiyong seems to agree because he smiles.

“Should I be worried?” Jiyong asks warily.

Youngbae goes to him. Wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck. Smiles when he feels Jiyong return the embrace.

“I listened to your song. The one about us.” His lips brush against Jiyong's collarbone.

“Oh,” Jiyong says, still confused. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't know I was hurting you,” Youngbae says.

“It's okay,” Jiyong soothes, but it's not. Youngbae isn't going to let it go that easily.

“I saw her a few days ago.” Youngbae can feel Jiyong tense in his arms. He pulls his head back so that he can look into his eyes. “I'm okay, though. I've always been okay, because of you.”

When Jiyong falls into his bed, Youngbae kisses him for so long his lips start to hurt. He's touched him so many times and yet, this time feels different. Youngbae's kind of nervous and it shows in the way he's fumbling to unzip Jiyong's trousers. But then, Jiyong is there, helping him, like always. Opening himself up for Youngbae to crawl inside of.

Jiyong is his refuge from the storm. His home.

“I love you,” Jiyong sighs when Youngbae's cock is buried inside him.

“I love you, too,” Youngbae smiles as he begins to rock into his favorite person.

He's not thinking about tomorrow or responsibilities or possible scandals. Their mouths and minds are filled with each other and when Jiyong comes, Youngbae can't help but tumble over the edge, too. He always follows his leader.

Hours later, daylight is breaking and the faint light that streams in through the window makes the sleeping Jiyong look like a ghost. Youngbae will keep him alive, though.

He promises himself that he's not going to make the same mistakes again. He's not going to cave into pressure and let love slip through his fingers, like grains of sand. Youngbae promises himself he'll never let Jiyong go. Even if it kills him.


	4. Epilogue II

Whoever has called Jiyong an emotional wreck has never met the sentimental bastard known as Dong Youngbae.

 

He wants to fuck to their song.

 

Jiyong’s elated that he calls it that.

 

“Please, Jiyong,” he begs, his bare foot brushing against Jiyong’s thigh as he sits across from him at Jiyong’s breakfast table.

 

He’s never used the table before, but if Youngbae wants to make waking up early to make breakfast a new habit then Jiyong’s going to let him. It’s strangely domestic and Jiyong thinks that he should be feeling the familiar nagging, run-for-the-hills kind of feeling that he always gets when a lover gets too comfortable.

 

His other lovers hadn’t made him breakfast in the nude, though.

 

It’s been exactly forty-eight hours since Jiyong confessed his deepest desires to his best friend. The world hasn’t fallen into the Apocalypse and Jiyong hasn’t been struck by lightning. It’s still surprising, how it easy it was.

 

Youngbae had a final recording session to go to the morning after so Jiyong had gone home alone and spent the next two days wondering if it was all a dream. But Youngbae had come back.

 

He’d come back.

 

“I don’t know, Youngbae, it’s not exactly a happy song,” Jiyong says, recalling months of being shut up in his room, trying to make the notes match the vague words through teary eyes. It’s still not perfect.

 

Youngbae gets up from the table, and even though he’s seen it countless times, his tattooed naked glory still makes Jiyong’s mind short circuit. He doesn’t say a word but Jiyong takes the silent invitation.

 

To the bedroom, it is then. Is it their bedroom now, too? Jiyong’s got a million questions spinning in his head and usually he’d go right ahead and ask the tough ones. But this is uncharted territory. This isn’t a random hook-up or a passing fancy.

 

It’s Youngbae.

 

It’s Youngbae turning the sound system on and laying on the mattress, hands clasped behind his head. His intense eyes burn a hole into Jiyong as a familiar moody tune echoes throughout the apartment.

 

“Did I ever tell you that you have the sexiest voice?” he rasps seductively, the apron he was wearing before now rumpled in a corner of the room. He looks like sin.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Jiyong says, stripping off his shirt and pants and joining Youngbae.

 

He kisses Youngbae’s collarbone, tongue probing along the skin stretched over bone and he wonders if Youngbae knows how much he loves the way his skin tastes. He wonders whether he should tell him.

 

Youngbae groans and uses his hands to stroke Jiyong’s bare back as they kiss. He taps lightly with his long nimble fingers, like Jiyong is the ivory keys of a piano, and sometimes, Jiyong feels like he’s on this earth for Youngbae to play him. To fill him with a whirlwind of emotions and to make him create music.

 

To be his secret muse.

 

 _Black_ is about him, but so is every other love song Jiyong’s ever written--especially the ones he keeps tucked under his bed because they’re too honest--because there’s no one who has ever captivated him like Youngbae. Black is just the one that’s closest to the truth.

 

“I wrote the chorus for your voice,” Jiyong says, already searching the bedside table for his bottle of lube.

 

“Really?” Youngbae says, eyes blinking in surprise. He looks so young and innocent, and it’s times like these, with his bleached hair sticking up in all directions, cheeks and chest flushed with arousal, that he looks the most beautiful. Like some sort of angel.

 

Jiyong wants to tell him _of course it’s for you, everything I do is for you_. But he’s still a bit on edge about where this love is going so he only nods.

 

The way Youngbae smiles and parts his legs right as the bridge of the song hits will probably be engraved into Jiyong’s memory as long as he lives. It’s filthy and cathartic and everything this moment should be.

 

When he’s finally inside Youngbae, his own voice repeats in his ear.

 

_Fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away._

 

He agonized over this song; it took him years to even get the lyrics done, never mind the actual music. He fretted for months over whether he should release it, whether it was vague enough that the public would write it off and not think twice about references to shining gold smiles and painful misunderstandings. Mostly, he worried that Youngbae would figure out his heart and he made a show of not letting him listen to it for the longest time.

 

Now, he’s buried inside the man that inspired the tune, listening to his own voice spin tales of heartache and woe, and it’s almost too overwhelming, too strange, too emotional.

 

And pretty sexy.

 

Especially when Youngbae starts to sing along, just a bit, just under his breath, little _fade aways_ coming out breathily as his lips nibble on Jiyong’s ear and his muscular arms wrap around his shoulders. His moans become louder as he nears his orgasm and Jiyong pounds into him, racing against the song to make Youngbae come.

 

It’s crazy. It’s silly.

 

It’s overly sentimental and much too literal.

 

It’s so them.

 

They don’t win against the song, but it doesn’t matter.

 

Jiyong lies, spent and exhausted, draped across Youngbae’s chest.

 

“I really love that song,” Youngbae finally says, his fingers stroking Jiyong’s sweaty hair.

 

“I can tell,” Jiyong jokes, because he thinks that if he doesn’t, he might start crying.

 

“We should probably tell our parents. Mr. Yang, too. Not the members, though, at least not yet.”

 

Jiyong lets his hand rest on the cross tattoo on Youngbae’s side. The implications of Youngbae’s words make him feel like he’s invincible.

 

“So that’s it, then? You’re my boyfriend now?”

 

The way Youngbae laughs heartily makes the whole bed--and Jiyong--shake. “Did you want this part to be harder? It’s already going to be hard enough hiding it.”

 

Jiyong thinks about their trip to Paris and how hard it was for him to keep his hands off Youngbae, suppress the urge to kiss him under the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower. He supposes Youngbae’s right. “I just never thought you’d want me like that.”

 

Youngbae kisses the top of Jiyong’s head. “I never thought so, either. But I’ve been wrong before.”

 

Tomorrow, they will plan out how to tell their families that they are in love, strategize about how to make it seem marketable and simple for Mr. Yang. They will spend hours confessing to each other about every way they’ve ever been disappointed and all the things they fear. They’ll promise each other that this time, it will be different, and that they’ll always put each other first.

 

They will promise each other forever.

 

They’ll mean it.

  
For now though, Jiyong buries himself in strong arms and sighs in contentment and in love, his mind already working on a song set to the rhythm of Youngbae's heartbeat.

 


End file.
